THERE’S a certain kind of sadness that comes with growing up. Not the sharp sting of an immediate loss, but the quiet realization that the past has slipped away like water held in your palm.

Nostalgia— or the wistful affection for the past— often comes not in waves of sorrows, but as a gentle ache. The memories that were once so vibrant in our heads are often softened by the dreamy haze brought by time. It’s a feeling that lingers in the spaces between laughter and silence, in the echoes of the old conversations, and the warmth of memories that no longer belong to the present.

Nowadays, our inclination toward nostalgia is often met with skepticism. It’s no longer just a personal and intimate experience, but something that has been frequently commercialized, repackaged and sold back to us. 

From reboots of TV shows to vintage merchandise resurrected and resold, nostalgia becomes the new currency in the industry of emotional capitalism— where feelings are no longer just personal experiences but commodities to be packaged, sold, and consumed. 

This made people wary of their encounter with nostalgia. They question whether the past is really what they think it is, rather than a carefully curated marketing strategy. 

But Maki—a singer and OPM artist—reminds us that in art, nostalgia is not a commodity but an experience. His song Bughaw delves into nostalgia not to exploit emotions or turn them into a product, but to preserve the fleeting beauty of growing up, of moments slipping away even as we try to hold onto them.

‘Bughaw’ as the color of nostalgia

During the media conference held for Maki Bughaw Hour— the event marketing debut of his music video— Maki described Bughaw as his most complex song to date. 

He said that it was not just about his personal experiences, but also the experiences of other people around him. 

“Malaki po ‘yung impact ng mga experiences ko kasi I resonate more to the things I write na alam kong nangyari siya sa ‘kin. That’s why it’s a challenge for me, sabi ko nga, na I’m exploring to write ‘yung mga bagay na… experiences ng ibang tao,” said Maki. 

This statement echoes the essence of nostalgia as a universal experience, not just something that is exclusive to a culture. Everyone experiences it, as our identities are tied to our memories and how they shaped us. 

Although nostalgia is often criticized for being exploited for profit, we sometimes overlook its role as a coping mechanism—a way to find comfort in the past amid the uncertainties of the present. 

For instance, in the music video, Kyler, who portrays the protagonist, is shown against different backgrounds, yet the framing—his face and position in the shot—remains unchanged. This deliberate approach emphasizes how, despite the passage of time, the memories we’ve lived through remain an integral part of who we are.

Yes it might bring us sadness, but it also offers solace, allowing us to revisit moments that shaped us. It gives us a reassurance that although we could never go back to the past, it remains a part of who we are. 

Although blue is often associated with sadness—and loneliness is undeniably a part of nostalgia—Maki presents it not solely as sorrow, but as depth. The depth of experiences, emotions, and connections that shape us, lingering long after the moment has passed. 

“What resonated with Bughaw— sila ‘yung mga tao na talagang… they have this… a love that is so deep but it’s so silent,” explained Maki. 

Bughaw doesn’t dwell on nostalgia as mere longing but as a testament to the richness of memories that continue to define us.

Role of nostalgia in youth and friendship

Bughaw also presents nostalgia in the lens of Asian and Filipino culture— that is in the collectivist perspective. 

The music video’s imagery, for instance, prominently features a group of friends in their school uniforms, exploring a sunlit summer landscape. This evokes a nostalgia rooted in the friendships we formed during our youth—when life felt simpler and days were filled with carefree adventures.

Rather than portraying nostalgia as a solitary experience, Bughaw frames it as a shared one—reflecting a distinct characteristic of Filipino culture, where memories are often woven into collective experiences and deep social bonds.

“It talks about ‘yung love na nakukuha natin from people na alam nating magse-stay forever,” said Maki, pertaining to Bughaw. 

Maki also doubled down on the coming-of-age theme of his work. He said that most of his inspiration for the music video’s visuals came from coming-of-age films and series like Studio Ghibli’s Ocean Waves and the popular Korean Drama Twenty-Five Twenty-One— both of which deal with the pains and gains of youth and growing up. 

“I think it speaks a lot about blue, the bughaw color,” he added. “Alam mo ‘yung feeling na kahit mag-college na kayo ng mga high school friends mo, mag-work na kayo, you still look at the same sky. The same blue sky.”

What nostalgia teaches us

In the end, Bughaw reminds us that nostalgia is not just about longing for the past—it is about carrying it with us. 

It is the bittersweet feeling of looking back, not to dwell in what was lost, but to appreciate what remains. It captures how memories, though fleeting, never truly fade. Like the vast blue sky overhead, nostalgia lingers—not as something to hold us back, but as a quiet companion in our journey forward.